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I wokeup to a pounding headache and a tongue drier than the Sahara Desert. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table, checking the time through squinted eyes. 9:27. There were a couple missed calls from Kelly. She was probably just mad I didn’t take her and Kaylie home with me. Not that I was ever really planning on it. If there’s one thing I learned from the last time the three of us spent the night, it’s that mornings after are even worse with an extra person in the mix.

After splashing some water on my face and throwing my sweat-soaked shirt in the hamper, I made my way to the kitchen. Coffee, then shower. That was the plan. Even if walking down those damn stairs made my head throb harder with every step.

When I reached the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. Now, I’d never had a hangover so bad that I hallucinated, but in that moment, I was about ready to believe it could happen. Because standing in the middle of my kitchen was a smoking hot woman in a tight black skirt and a red silk blouse, with her arms crossed and back to me.

Not that I was complaining about the view.

Maybe I didn’t remember the end of last night as well as I thought I did. I could have sworn I came home alone, but according to the vision in red just a few yards away, there was a lot of late night action I was forgetting. But even if my brain was still a little hazy from the booze, judging by the stirring in my boxer briefs, my dick remembered just fine.

“Good morning, darlin’. Could I interest you in some breakfast sausage?”

The woman turned, her long, dark curls swinging around her shoulders. A look of disgust quickly washed over her face as her eyes locked on my bulge.

“Ay dios mio, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered, immediately taking her briefcase from the counter and marching to the front door, her red-bottomed heels clacking loudly on the hardwood.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, stumbling after her.

“Last time I do a favor for a friend,” she said under her breath, slamming the front door shut behind her.

Favor. Friend. Beautiful woman in a pencil skirt. Charlotte’s hotshot lawyer friend from Los Angeles.

Oh fuck.

“Hey, uh, Valencia, wait up!”

I burst through the door to find her paused on the top step of the porch. She turned sharply to look me dead on, the fire in her eyes enough to burn me straight through.

“It’s Valentina,” she spat, crossing her arms and cocking her hip to the side.

“Valentina, right. My mistake. Listen, I’m really sorry about all this. We were out late last night for?—”

“For the opening, I know. I was supposed to be there, but something came up at work. So instead, I got my ass onto a last-minute redeye to make it in time for our meeting this morning,but clearly you had other things in mind,” she said, her eyes flitting to my quickly-softening cock before turning again to leave.

“No, please, don’t go. This is completely unprofessional, I know?—”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“But I promise, if you give me a chance, we can turn this meeting around.”

“Is it still a meeting when one person shows up with his dick out?”

“Oh, trust me, sweetheart, if my dick was out, you’d know it.”

“Sure, as long as I brought a magnifying glass with me.”

I paused, standing up a little straighter. She squared her shoulders, and our eyes locked, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

If we were going to make this work, I knew I had to be the one to budge. But dammit if this woman didn’t make me want to blow my lid.

“Look, I’m sorry. Please stay. If not for me, then for Luke and Charlotte.”

Valentina sighed and put a hand on her hip.

“Fine. Put some goddamn pants on first, and then we’ll talk.”

Within fifteen minutes, Valentina and I were walking into the local coffee shop. After throwing on a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt, I convinced her that moving to a second location was probably a good idea. I drove us over to Sue’s Brews, the best—and only—place for coffee in town.

I led us to my usual corner booth, simply smiling and waving at the hostess as we seated ourselves. Sue’s was really more of a café than a coffee shop, with lots of tables and waitresses and such, and I could tell by the look on her face when we walked in that Valentina was expecting something different. I felt a smirk pull the corner of my lip up as I imagined her surprise at howdifferent this place was from the hoity-toity places she probably got her coffee in Los Angeles.